


What It's Like Falling In Love When You're Gay and Super Dumb And Also Don't Bother Defining Your Relationships

by littleconnections



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, JT and Josty share one brain cell and they only use it for sex and hockey, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, and there's not much hockey in this fic, everything is under negotiated but enthusiastically consented to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-08 13:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleconnections/pseuds/littleconnections
Summary: Tyson pulls off JT’s dick with a wet pop and looks up at him. He looks good, flushed and tousled, mouth wet with spit.“I think it’d be fun to fuck Kerf,” he says.





	What It's Like Falling In Love When You're Gay and Super Dumb And Also Don't Bother Defining Your Relationships

**Author's Note:**

> The working title for this was 'OT3 of Dumbasses'. Let me know if you think I need to add any tags.
> 
> Also, if you found this googling yourself or someone you know: please don't read this.

Tyson pulls off JT’s dick with a wet pop and looks up at him. He looks good, flushed and tousled, mouth wet with spit. 

“I think it’d be fun to fuck Kerf,” he says, one hand still wrapped around JT’s cock .

JT groans and lets his head fall back onto the pillow.

“Please,” he begs. “Please can you keep sucking my dick?”

“Hm,” Tyson says and does not get back to it. Instead he tightens his fist, slides it slick and wet along over JT and it’s not what JT asked for but it’s still pretty good and JT tilts into it and—

“I just think—” Tyson starts.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” JT hisses. “Did you just think of this right now?”

“No.” Tyson says. “But I thought I’d bring it up when you’re in a good mood.”

“Blow me and I’ll be in a good mood,” JT says.

Tyson considers for a moment, then nods. “Okay.”

His mouth is back on JT’s dick, hot and wet and skilled and JT sinks his hand into Tyson’s curls, guides him down. Tyson’s eyes get heavy and he goes, meets the upward nudges of JT’s hips and it doesn’t take long until JT comes with a shout and then Tyson is pulling off, dick slipping from his mouth and little bit of cum spilling over his lip. It’s so fucking hot and Tyson crawls up JT’s body, kisses him, hot and filthy and doesn’t protest when JT gets a hand around him, jerks him off with a tight grip until he comes with his face pressed into JT’s neck.

Afterwards they lay together, Tyson sprawled on JT’s chest, fingers trailing absently through his chest hair.

“So,” JT says, “you think it’d be fun to have sex with Kerf?”

“Hmmmm,” Tyson says. “Yeah. And I think he’d go for it.”

“Yeah?” JT laughs. “Why’s that? You been getting some looks or you just think your ass is good enough?”

Tyson bites him. JT yelps.

“Kerf would be nice to me.”

“Oh?” JT runs a hand through Tyson’s curls, tightens his fingers, tilts his head back. Tyson goes with it. “You want someone to be nice to you?”

Tyson’s eyes are slitted, head heavy in JT’s hand. “I don’t want _you_ to be nice to me.”

JT laughs and lets go of his hair.

“Good,” he says, pulling Tyson back in. He kisses his head as Tyson arranges himself so they’re touching all over, skin on skin. “You should go for it then, if you think you’ll have fun with Kerf.”

Tyson hums against his neck in what mostly seems like agreement.

 

Tyson puts his plan into action the next day and it’s kind of fun to watch. It starts with little things. Touching Kerf’s arm when he laughs at one of his jokes. Leaning on him when the three of them sit on the couch to watch a movie together. There’s a certain way Tyson has of looking at him, tilting his chin to make his eyes look big, and he uses that a lot when he stands close to Kerf, smiles his sunniest smile.

They’re all moves Tyson uses on JT on the reg and they all work _very_ well on him.

The whole thing is particularly funny because JT isn’t sure Kerf notices he’s being seduced. He blushes sometimes when Tyson sits close to him and bites his lip. It sits high on his cheeks, pretty in contrast with his dark hair and pale skin. Mostly, though, he interacts with Tyson like normal: they chat about the games and give each other shit about the cleaning and the cooking.

It’s a little funny to watch Tyson get more and more frustrated, so much that one evening he comes into the kitchen with a stubborn expression and a shirt that’s about two sizes too small. It clings to his chest and shows off his biceps and JT would make fun of him because they’re all professional athletes who see each other naked all the time except it’s really, really working for him.

It's working on Kerf, too. He keeps glancing at Tyson, getting caught on his arms and the expanse of his chest. Once Tyson drops his knife when setting the table and bends over to pick it up and he’s not wearing particularly tight pants, but Kerf still looks, bites his lip and turns away quickly. The flush has receded by the time they all sit down for dinner, but he keeps glancing at Tyson for a moment too long and then jerking his gaze away. Once he catches JT catch him and his eyes go comically wide and he looks down at his food and doesn’t look up again until Tyson leans across the table to steal a piece of potato from him.

He’s doesn’t quite manage to keep his eyes to himself after that, but he also talks to them like normal and doesn’t take Tyson up on it when he asks him if he wants to go for some after dinner ice cream with a winning smile. Instead he goes up to his room, mumbling something about the Umbrella Academy and JT and Tyson are left alone in the kitchen.

“JT,” Tyson whines, “JT why isn’t it working?” 

“I dunno,” JT says, standing to put his plate in the dishwasher. “I mean he definitely wants to.”

“But he’s not _doing_ anything,” Tyson pouts. “And it worked on you!”

JT shrugs. Tyson puts his shit in the dishwasher too, then comes to lean on him. He’s heavy, and warm as JT puts an arm around him and kisses him and they make out like that, propped up against the fridge. JT gets a hand on Tyson’s ass, squeezes a little as he pulls him close.

“Uhm,” Kerf clears his throat in the doorway.

“Oh hey,” JT says and lets go of Tyson.

“Just wanted to get a beer,” Kerf says.

“Course,” Tyson says brightly, opens the fridge and hands it to him. He makes sure their hands brush as he does. “You still sure about the ice cream?”

“Uh,” Kerf’s eyes flick between JT and Tyson. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Tyson watches in disappointment as he disappears up the stairs again.

 

“I could talk to him for you,” JT offers later that night when the two of them are laying on the couch together, watching the Umbrella Academy.

Tyson considers, the flickering light of the TV illuminating the curve of his cheek, the swoop of his curls. JT reaches out, brushes his fingers along them.

“Yeah okay,” he says. “Let’s try that.”

 

JT gets the perfect chance just a couple of days later, after practice. They all rode in together but Josty tweaked something in his shoulder. Nothing serious or anything, but the trainers want to take a look at it and Kerf and JT decide to wait for him. They could make him take an Uber home but. You know. The things you for your friends.

Tyson uses the chance to flirt with Kerf again, plays with the strings of his hoodie while he thanks him for waiting, then winks before sauntering down the hallway for his check-up. Kerf watches him go, shoulders hunched a little, the tips of his ears red against his dark hair.

“He’s doing it on purpose you know,” JT says.

Kerf’s head snaps around and he stares at JT with wide, dark eyes. It’s kind of cute. JT has to suppress a smirk.

“Um,” Kerf swallows. “What?”

JT has his hands tucked into his sweater-pocket, so he gives a one shouldered shrug.

“Josty. He’s trying to have get you to have sex with him.”

He considers saying something like ‘he’s really good, you should take him up on it’ but Kerf is looking sort of panicked.

“Uh,” he says. “Um. But aren’t you two like—?”

“Well,” JT reaches up and scratches his nose. “Sure. But Josty does what he likes and I told him I’d talk to you about it.”

“Okay,” Kerf says. “That’s, uh, okay, I guess. But I don’t think I—I actually I just remembered I wanted to talk to the equipment guy about something so I’m gonna see if I can find him.”

“Okay?” JT’s a little surprised. “I’ll meet you at the car?”

“Actually, just take Josty home when you’re done,” Kerf says. “This might take a while. I’ll take an Uber home.”

He takes off down the hallway. JT doesn’t think he’s imagining that he’s walking faster than usual.

 

He thinks about the conversation while he waits for Tyson and figures Kerf probably wasn’t interested in taking Tyson up on his offer and was trying to get out of the situation without saying so. That’s disappointing for Tyson but well. It probably wasn’t right to bring it up anymore.

He tells Tyson what happened on the car ride home and Tyson agrees with him but he also sulks the whole way home. He doesn’t really stop sulking at home either. They’re going on the road tonight and he still has to do laundry before he packs and JT can hear him the whole time. Stomping, slamming things, giving these loud, forlorn sighs.

JT has his own packing to finish, so he doesn’t have time to take care of that right. It’s a long-ish road trip, so he actually has to pay attention to what he’s packing, not just stuffing the first best thing in his bag and trusting that someone will lend him anything he forgets. He’s hunting down his last pairs of clean underwear and stuffing them into his bag, zipping up just as Tyson wanders into his room. His eyebrows look thundery and there’s a unhappy tilt to his mouth.

“What’s wrong?” JT asks as he gets up off the floor.

Tyson shrugs, then pouts. Wanders over and plants his face right in JT’s neck.

“I’m sad about Kerf,” he mutters.

JT raises an eyebrow, then sighs and hugs him, runs a hand through his curls.

“Okay but I can’t really help you with that.”

“You could cheer me up,” Tyson mumbles against his skin. “You’re good at that.”

JT pauses, then tightens his fingers and tilts Tyson’s head back. He still looks sad but there’s the edge of a smirk playing around his mouth and that—that had definitely been a tone JT recognized.

“Yeah?” He says. “You want me to fuck the sadness out of you?”

The hovering smirk becomes full-blown and Tyson full-body shivers. JT shakes his head and shoves him towards the bed.

“You’re so fuckin’ needy,” he says as he follows.

“You like it,” Tyson is nothing but confident, already striping off his shirt and tossing it somewhere out of the bed. JT does, in fact, like it but he’s not going to tell Tyson that, so he kisses him instead, wet and open mouthed. Tyson kisses back, insistent as always. He lets his hands roam over JT’s body, sliding up his shirt until JT settles down on top of him, lets gravity push them together.

Tyson is sturdy under him, thick, muscled torso, built thighs around him. He’s eager, responds to every kiss, every drag of JT’s mouth with a whimper. He gets loud when JT gets his mouth on his neck, kissing and biting. He squirms, too, trying to grind up into JT. JT makes himself heavy, uses that bit of weight he has on Tyson to push him down, take control.

“How do you want it?” It comes out low, almost a growl. Tyson gasps and jerks against him.

“Knees,” he says, breathless. “On my knees.”

“Hmmm,” JT lowers his mouth again, let’s his lips trail over Tyson’s neck. It’s a good image, Tyson up on his knees, face shoved into the pillow. “Okay, let’s get you ready.”

Tyson stays on his back for the prep. They kiss through it, almost lazy except Tyson keeps hitching and moaning against JT’s mouth. Prep is easy and practiced until JT pulls his fingers out, slaps Tyson’s thigh easily. 

“Okay, you’re ready.”

JT strips out of the rest of his clothes and fishes around for the condom and when he turns back Tyson is face first on the bed, ass up towards JT. JT swallows. He watches as JT gets the condom on, slicks himself up, face half buried in the pillow. He’s smirking a little.

“What?” JT asks.

Tyson just smirks wider. He’s so slutty like this, the mess of his curls, his ass, ready to take whatever JT is going to give to him. JT puts a hand on the curve of his ass cheek, thumb pushing against Tyson’s hole. It gives easily, ready, so JT knee-walks forward and lines himself up.

Tyson shifts in anticipation.

JT fucks forward, hard, pulls out and slams back in. Tyson groans, fingers tightening on the sheets as he takes.

“Yeah, fuck, like that.”

JT fucks him hard, fast. He knows Tyson can take, wants it like that, the slap of their skin against each other, needy, breathless whines pulled from his throat. He puts his hands on his hips for leverage, puts his back into it. It makes the bed creak.

Tyson is hot and tight around him and he feels so good as JT fucks into him. He leans into it, expression slack. One of his hands is still clutching the sheets, the other has made its way onto his dick and he’s jerking himself off, fast and slick. JT growls and leans forward, puts weight into it as grinds himself into Tyson. They’re both sweating, skin sliding against each other.

When JT comes it’s a rush, a punched-out rush to a steady build. 

“Fuck,” he says, leaning on Tyson, who’s still jerking himself underneath him, one, two, three strokes more until he comes with a drawn out mewl.

Tyson winces a little as JT draws out. JT runs a hand soothing hand along his back, the urges him over until he collapses on his back on the bed. His face is red, sweaty curls plastered to his forehead and he’s one of the best things JT has ever seen in his life. He climbs out of bed to toss the condom and comes back with a wash cloth he uses to gently clean Tyson up. Tyson lets him. He’s relaxed into the mattress and before JT can leave again he catches his hand and pulls him down to kiss.

“Come cuddle,” he says.

It’s not exactly a hardship, so he tosses the washcloth somewhere and settles down into the bed. He lets Tyson arrange himself until he’s mostly on top of JT, face buried somewhere in the vicinity of JT’s chest.

“Feeling better?” JT asks.

“Mmmph,” Tyson says and clings more tightly.

 

They can’t actually stay in bed for long, since they still have to eat before their flight takes off. It’s Kerf’s turn to cook and when they get downstairs he’s standing in front of the stove, headphones clamped over his head. They must be the noise cancelling ones because he doesn’t notice them until Tyson steps up right beside him and pokes him.

“Oh good, you’re done,” he says and his voice is strangely high pitched.

“Oooh, are you making the cauliflower thing?” Tyson asks and leans on Kerf to inspect his work. “Awesome!”

“Yeah,” Kerf swallows and steps away from Tyson a little. “Uh, could you guys set the table?”

“Sure,” Tyson turns and starts getting out the cutlery. JT follows.

Dinner is a little weird. Kerf is kind of jumpy and it takes a while until he’s chatting with them normally. He won’t look at Tyson properly and Tyson clearly notices, wilting as dinner goes a long. As soon as he’s done Kerf takes off to his room, mumbling something about packing.

“Is this because he knows?” Tyson asks.

“Probably,” JT admits, which like. It’s not nice to think about.

“Oh,” Tyson looks small. “Should I like…talk to him about it?”

“I don’t know,” JT says. “I mean…talking to him kind of started this so maybe we should just leave it alone for now? Act like everything is normal?”

Tyson sighs. “Okay.”

 

It turns out it’s really hard to act normal when one person is acting weird. It’s like JT’s forgotten what normal is. Like, are he and Tyson just supposed to joke while Kerf mostly avoids their eyes and only joins in when prompted? Is it cool if JT, touches Kerf, shoves him along to the bus? Is it okay if Tyson does it?

It’s weird and it makes everything else weird. The whole road trip is exhausting, trying to be normal and for the most part Kerf just sort of avoids them. Hangs out with Gravy and Barbs and Barrie and Landy and EJ and…well everyone but the two of them basically.

Even rooming together is weird. It’s not like Kerf can avoid JT then and he makes conversation with him normally, mostly. But occasionally there’ll be a moment where they’ll be talking normally, about Game of Thrones or something and suddenly Kerf will blush and look away from JT and cut the conversation short. It’s kind of upsetting.

Still, they’re trying to be normal. Tyson has stopped the blatant flirting but there’s still—he’s still _Tyson_. He’ll still smile wide, with shiny eyes and wander around in short shorts and look cute and confused when Kerf answers his questions about finances. JT knows. He knows, okay, but he’s used to it and also he gets to be all up in that whenever he wants to be and Kerf…

Well Kerf clearly wants to be too, and JT doesn’t really get why he won’t.

 

It gets a little better when they get home. Kerf can’t avoid them when they’re home and slowly ‘acting normal’ starts working and Kerf will have actually conversations where he looks both of them in the eye. They go a whole day without him getting red. 

It’s a relief and by the next road trip (a short one this time) JT isn’t really expecting anything more to happen. He really, really isn’t expecting it when Kerf puts away his phone one evening and looks at him, expression somewhere between awkward and determined.

“So uh,” he says. “Was that for real? That Tyson wants—to have sex with me?”

JT is speechless for a moment because they’ve studiously been avoiding the whole thing but. Kerf brought it up this time.

“Yeah,” he says.

“And you’d be okay with it?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Kerf looks like he wants to ask something else but instead he picks up his phone again.

“Are you gonna?” JT asks when it doesn’t seem like Kerf is gonna say anything else.

“Uh,” Kerf is blushing again, high on his cheeks and JT can understand why Tyson wants to fuck him. He looks good. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Cool,” JT grins. “Have fun.”

 

JT doesn’t tell Tyson about the conversation because he doesn’t want him getting his hopes up or anything. Kerf could still change his mind. He doesn’t know what his plan is.

For a few days after they come back nothing happens and JT almost thinks Kerf changed his mind again except maybe they also just haven’t had the opportunity to be alone together. So, he goes to gaming thing at Mikko’s by himself and when he comes home, he finds Kerf and Tyson kissing on the couch. It’s exactly what he expected, but he’s also not surprised.

They don’t notice him right away. He stands in the doorway and watches for a moment. He’s surprised by how much it affects him, a low-key punch to the gut. It’s not bad though, not really, a pull of want, hot and sharp. He looks at Kerf’s fingers tangled in Tyson’s curls, Tyson’s hand up Kerf’s shirt. Their mouths on each other, wet and slick.

He slouches against the doorframe, then clears his throat. 

“Movie night, huh?”

He can see Kerf tense as he drops his hands from Tyson, but Tyson just tilts his head to look at him, raises one expressive eyebrow. His hair is wild, lips pink.

“You know how movie night gets.”

JT nods. He does indeed know how movie night gets if Tyson has put his mind to not watching movies.

“He’s a brat,” he says to Kerf. “Don’t let him get away with it.”

“Uh, okay?” Kerf says. He’s flushed, mouth red and wet and his dark hair is all mussed up. It’s getting long. He looks good.

“I’m right here,” Tyson complains.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” JT says. “Alright you guys have fun, I’m going to bed.”

“Good night!” Tyson calls out and Kerf mumbles something as JT leaves the room. He gets himself a beer from the kitchen on his way up, then settles into his bed to watch another episode of the Umbrella Academy.

The episode is almost done when he hears Tyson and Kerf make their way up the stairs. It sounds like they go to Kerf’s room. JT half-listens as he watches the episode wind down, considers watching another but he’s really fucking tired. He turns it off, goes out to brush his teeth, glad he already changed into sleepwear.

He can still hear them, mostly Tyson. It’s moans and whines, the faint sound of a bed creaking. JT is under the covers, rolled onto his side. Comfortable. He considers jerking off, but before he can make an executive decision, he falls asleep, between one breath and then next.

 

JT wakes up the next morning feeling refreshed and also fairly certain he’s the first one awake. He considers staying in bed a while longer, but he’s pretty awake so he decides to make coffee instead.

It’s quiet in the house. JT gets the coffee going, leans back against the counter to watch it. He feels good. He thinks back to last night, drums his fingers against the cabinet. He hopes they had fun.

Tyson comes into the kitchen before the coffee is done. He mumbles good morning, starts preparing his own breakfast.

“Can I have some of the coffee?”

“Sure.”

JT watches him. There’s a mark on his neck, dark and vivid against the skin. Tyson looks soft, still sleepy. His hair is sticking up on one side and he has a pillow crease on one side of his face.

“You’re really loud, you know,” JT tells Tyson. Tyson squints at him.

“You knew that.”

“Yeah but,” JT considers, “it’s different when I’m not involved.”

Tyson looks at him, then smirks, lets his eyes go heavy. He closes the fridge and steps up to JT, crowding against him.

“Did you listen?” He asks, low. “Did you jerk off to us fucking?”

JT groans and puts his whole hand on Tyson’s face, shoves him away. Tyson laughs as he goes, then darts forward to peck him on the lips.

“It’s fine if you did,” he says. “Kinda hot.”

“Oh my god, just eat your breakfast.”

 

That’s how it goes then. Tyson fucks Kerf now sometimes. He still fucks JT, still leans on him during movies and in the mornings, curls up tight against him when they’re in bed together. Sometimes he does the same thing with Kerf.

It’s nice. Both the part where Tyson comes to him and the parts where he gets to watch him interact with Kerf. They look comfortable together, Tyson somehow tucking himself into Kerf even though he’s technically taller. JT likes looking at them, the way they fit into each other, their interactions with each other, fond, teasing, sexy.

They’ll both catch him looking occasionally. Tyson always smiles, sly and sharp. Kerf freezes for a moment, hands stilling if they’re touching Tyson. JT always smiles at him.

 

Some nights, though, Tyson picks JT deliberately. Tonight is one of those nights, out on the road and after a win. Tyson scored and his delighted with it, happy, flushed, glowing. He leans on JT in the hotel bar, whispers into his ear. JT has an arm around him, holds him close. With the other hand he stops Sam as he passes by them.

“Hey G, switch rooms with me tonight,” he says. Sam rolls his eyes, but he knows them well enough that he’ll go sleep with Kerf tonight.

It doesn’t take long for them to make their way up to Tyson’s room, mouths on each other as soon as they’re alone. They shuck their suit jackets as they make their way over to the bed. JT dumps his tie somewhere, starts unbuttoning his shirt, then gets distracted kissing Tyson again, stretched out together on the sheets.

They make out like that, hot, probing, insistent. Tyson reaches up over his head to hook his fingers into the bar at the bottom of the headboard and push himself up into JT. It makes JT pause, consider.

“Stay like that,” he says. Tyson quirks an eyebrow and watches as JT gropes around on the bed until he finds his discarded tie. He runs it through his fingers, tries to make his face a question. Tyson sees it, laughs and lifts his hands, making his wrists available.

It takes a moment for JT to loop the tie around Tyson’s wrists and secure it to the headboard. Tyson wriggles under him, doesn’t stop until JT finishes the knot and slides down to kiss him.

They kiss for a while, JT’s hands sliding over Tyson’s body. He gets his shirt unbuttoned, gets it open, tangled around Tyson’s shoulders as he sucks and bites along his chest, his nipples. Tyson moans and gasps and wriggles, strains against the tie.

“Come on,” he says. “Come on, JT, please.”

JT slaps him. Not, like, hard or anything, just a sharp tap on his cheek. It probably doesn’t even hurt; Tyson just raises one eyebrow at him.

“Don’t talk yet,” JT says. He trails his fingers to Tyson mouths, slides in two fingers. Tyson sucks on them, wet, tongue probing. JT watches for a moment, then takes his hand back. He goes back to kissing Tyson’s chest, scrapes his teeth and beard along his abs as he goes lower, appreciating the thick muscles. Tyson gasps and moans and doesn’t stay still at all but he doesn’t talk either, so JT feels pretty good when he finally gets to Tyson’s pants. Tyson’s dick springs free as he gets him out of them. JT tosses the pants to the side, then leans down and sucks Tyson’s dick into his mouth. He bobs on it a couple of times. Tyson bucks up into his mouth and JT pulls off, pins his hips to the bed.

Tyson looks down at him. He’s flushed, mouth red, pupils blown. He’s biting his lip, clearly holding himself back from saying something and JT is filled with a wave of affection, hot and tight in his chest.

“I’m gonna ride you,” he decides.

“Fuck,” Tyson says. “Shit.”

This time JT smacks his thigh as he gets up. He gets the lube and a condom, shucks the rest of his clothes. He swings a leg over Tyson’s waist, straddling him. Tyson watches, hungry, as JT preps himself, more perfunctory than anything. He slides the condom on Tyson’s dick, lubes him up. He lines himself up and sinks down, head tilted back, moaning as he goes. It’s a lot, Tyson’s pretty big, but this isn’t JT’s first rodeo and soon enough he’s settled on Tyson’s lap. He opens his eyes, panting, and looks at Tyson. Tyson is looking up at him, hands still tied above his head. His mouth is a little open, flushed and glassy-eyed, hair a mess. JT tightens around his dick, leans forward to kiss him.

“Now,” he murmurs between drags of their lips, “why don’t you tell me about ‘movie night’.”

“Oh shit,” Tyson says and his hips jerks up. JT grins, kisses him again, then settles back and slowly lifts himself.

“Go on,” he says.

“Uh,” Tyson jerks, hips lifting. “Shit. Okay so we started with me blowing him—“

“Hmmm,” JT hums as he lowers himself again, raises back up.

“I wanted him to come on my face,” Tyson gasps, arms straining. “But he said he wanted to fuck me—”

“Fuck,” JT can see it and it’s so hot. Tyson keeps going, breathless, straining, gasped out between breathes and JT fucks himself to it, thighs burning as builds a rhythm. Tyson on his knees, Tyson on his back, but Kerf too, fucking Tyson, getting his dick suck. What he must have looked like, hair wild, flushed cheeks, the sounds he made—

Tyson comes first, all in a rush and then he lays there, hands still tied, gasping as JT jerks himself off on him, stripping his stomach in cum, the edge of his nice shirt. It’s filthy, maybe the hottest thing JT has ever seen. He unties Tyson, then falls to the bed beside him. Tyson curls into him, face tucked into his skin as JT curls an arm around him. 

Neither of them says anything as they catch their breath. 

 

The next morning at team breakfast Tyson sits down on Kerf’s right and JT takes Kerf other side without even thinking about it. He looks startled when he notices them. JT smiles as he grabs a breakfast roll. They don’t talk as they eat breakfast and it feels good, settled and calm. JT’s elbow brushes against Kerf occasionally, a warm touch of skin. 

They sit together on the plane and then Tyson follows them to their hotel room in Columbus, inserts himself between them as he insists on a movie marathon. He’s got his head on JT’s shoulder, hand idly tracing over Kerf’s forearm. Kerf occasionally glances at JT and JT is always looking at him, smiles, feels the warm, comforting weight of Tyson against him. Kerf always smiles back, brown eyes soft and shining in the dimmed light.

  

The two nights later they’re still on the road and Tyson wants something else.

“Hey, what the fuck is that?” Barrie says, gesturing to where Tyson is drunk-flirting with Kerf. He’s got a hand on his arm and he’s giving him bedroom eyes and Kerf is blushing, flirting back. JT’s pretty sure they’re gonna leave much earlier than he is.

He shrugs. “Josty’s doing his thing, you know.”

“No,” Barrie looks impatient. “I thought you and Josty were a thing.”

“Well, yeah,” JT’s had a couple of beers. He’s not quite sure what Barrie is trying to get at here.

“Are you broken up? Is this Josty’s rebound? Do I need to stop this?”

“What? No!” JT stares at him, shakes his head. “Josty and I are fine.”

Which they are. The JT-and-Josty show is going strong and whatever feelings and, like, boners involved are also fine.

“Okay,” Barrie looks skeptical, then brightens up. “So…is this like a sharing thing? Are you sleeping with Kerf too?”

“Huh? No? It’s not—”

“It’s fine, you know. I’m not here to judge what you crazy kids do,” Brutes looks thoughtful as he surveys Kerf and Tyson again. Tyson is whispering in Kerf’s ear now, giggling and flushed. It’s pretty picture, Kerf’s tousled hair and the Tyson’s smile half-hidden against his cheek. JT smiles looking at them. When he looks back at Barrie, Barrie is full on smirking, like he just figured out a secret or something.

“Awww,” he says. “That’s sweet. Have fun with your threesomes.”

“We’re not—”

But he’s already wandered away to bother Landy instead. JT shakes his head and takes another pull from his beer. He looks at Tyson and Kerf again. They’re still tucked up against each other, talking and drinking. Kerf’s hand is on Tyson’s back now and soon they’ll get out of here and JT’s just…unbearably fond of both of them.

Kerf looks over at JT. His eyes are glassy and there’s a flush climbing up his neck. For one drunken moment JT imagines wandering over there and moving Tyson aside, putting his own mouth on it. Their eyes meet and JT slowly takes a drink. Kerr’s flush deepens and JT thinks the arm he has around Tyson tightens. He grins. There’s a moment of hesitation, then Kerf grins back and it’s across the room but JT—JT is drunk but he wants to feel that grin against his skin.

Then Kerf turns back to Tyson and the moment is broken. JT watches Kerf say something to Tyson, something Tyson laughs at. And that looks good too, of course, the line of Tyson’s throat as he tilts his head back. JT doesn’t stop looking at them. 

They take off early like he predicted. JT stays, has another beer, gets dragged into a conversation between EJ and Landy about—something. He couldn’t say, though he’s sure he had an opinion.

He hasn’t…forgotten about Kerf and Tyson by the time he stumbles upstairs to his room but also, it’s probably been enough time for them to get any fucking out of the way and JT—he doesn’t want to go room with Sam tonight. He wants his own bed he thinks with drunken righteousness. He doesn’t really think about the possibility of walking in on them except how he does while he’s fumbling with his key and just. Keeps going.

The room is dark and smells like sex when he finally gets the door open. He almost stumbles on a discarded piece of clothing. He picks his way across the room to his bed, slowly. Everything is soupy-slow and he can just make out the shape of the two of them in Kerf’s bed, tucked against each other. JT looks at them as he discards his own layers of clothing. He falls into his bed and tries not to think about anything.

 

JT is woken by Tyson poking him the next morning. He’s not wearing a shirt and there’s a mark on his skin. JT grumbles and rolls over, makes space for him to climb into bed, which he promptly does.

“Weren't you supposed to room with G last night?”

“I wanted my bed,” JT says. He’s slowly becoming more aware of his surroundings. The shower is running. That’s probably where Kerf is.

“This is a hotel room,” Tyson says. “One bed is a lot like another bed.”

“Whatever.” JT’s head hurts. “I was drunk, it made sense. 

“Sure,” Tyson chuckles, warm against JT. JT takes a moment to enjoy this, the comfortable familiarity of Tyson’s body, the intimacy of being pressed together in bed.

“You’re good though?” Tyson asks.

“Yeah,” JT says. He considers last night, Barrie’s comments. It’s—whatever. He’ll think about it later. “I’m good.”

“Cool.” Tyson smiles, then wiggles back out of the bed, “I’ll go back to my room and get dressed then. See you at breakfast.”

“See you,” JT says even though he’s definitely just going to close his eyes again as soon as Tyson is gone.

He wakes up again when Kerf pokes him and gives him the most disappointed look.

 “You’re gonna be late.”

He isn’t but it’s a close thing.

 

He does think about Barrie’s comments on the flight back to Denver, tucked into a window seat and willing the Advil to defeat his headache. Kerf is sitting by himself, reading something on his iPad. His hair is kind of swoopy and there’s stubble coming in and it’s really working for him. JT watches his hands as he turns a page on his iPad. He thinks about his hands, absently, what they could do, touching. 

Well. Seems like Tyson Barrie has some good ideas. 

 

JT pulls off Tyson’s dick to breathe and tilts back to look up at him.

“So, would you be cool if I fucked Kerf?”

“Jesus fucking—” Tyson groans and looks at him. JT looks back and smirks. “You’re such an asshole, god.”

JT laughs and takes Tyson back into his mouth, sucks hard and fast.

“Sure, you can fuck Kerf,” Tyson says afterwards, tucked into JT’s shoulder. “Want me to put in a good word for you?”

“Gonna tell him how big my dick is and how well I fuck you with it?” JT teases.

Tyson laughs. “I think he knows. He does live with us, you know.”

“True,” JT says. “You’re a great performance review.”

Tyson bites him and then laughs so hard he almost chokes at JT squawking and flailing so hard he almost falls out of the bed.

 

So, JT makes a plan. He’s not Tyson, he can’t just flirt with people until they fall into bed with him.

He does know how to treat someone right though, so he makes a reservation at that one sushi restaurant that’s kind of upscale, but not like, suit-fancy and asks Kerf if he wants to have dinner. 

Kerf says yes. Which, duh. Barring any plans with other people, why wouldn’t he? JT’s not sure if Kerf is aware what this is all about—probably not—but it doesn’t really matter. Kerf doesn’t have to know he’s being seduced to fall for the seduction.

On the day of JT takes his time picking out his outfit. He chooses a shirt that emphasizes his chest and shoulders, wears the nice jeans. He styles his hair, puts on the cologne Jesse got him for Christmas. Tyson sits on the bed and watches him.

“Do you always make this much of an effort or is this a first time only thing?” he asks.

“Fuck off,” JT says and kisses him. 

“Don’t worry,” Tyson says when they pull apart, “I won’t be around to get in the way of Operation Wine and Dine.”

JT flicks him on the forehead, but Tyson just laughs at him.

 

The restaurant is nice. It’s full of small little tables that seat two or four people. There’s a lot of couples, but also a few friend groups, JT notes as the waitress leads them to their table and gets them settled.

“Tyson didn’t want to come?” Kerf asks.

JT shrugs. “I didn’t ask him.”

It makes Kerf pause. JT doesn’t look directly at him, concentrates on studying the menu instead. The look Kerf gives him is searching, dark eyes flicking over him and then they’re interrupted by the waitress coming over for their drink order.

JT gets a beer. Kerf orders sake.

“Shut up,” Kerf mutters to JT’s ironically raised eyebrow.

“Okay Harvard.” 

“What does this have to do with Harvard—”

They bicker until the drinks come, familiar and teasing. It’s nice. The dim light of the restaurant is good to Kerf’s complexion, the contrast between his pale skin and the swoop of the dark hair. JT drinks it in as it they eat, watches for the gentle quirk of his mouth, the line of his throat as he swallows. He steals some dragon roll from Kerf’s plate, grins around it when Kerf protests.

JT gets the check before Kerf can say anything, grinning at him. The restaurant isn’t far from their place, so they walk back. JT walks closer than he normally would, shoulders brushing against each other. Kerf is quiet now and JT doesn’t feel like he has to fill the silence, so they just walk together. The streets are pretty empty, and it’s still cool, if not cold. There’re no stars out, clouds or light blocking them and when they get home JT breathes out.

“Want another beer?”

“Sure.”

Kerf follows him to the kitchen.

JT gets them both beers from the fridge. Kerf takes his and takes a swing. He leans against the counter, picks at the label.

“Thanks for dinner,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” JT says. He takes a swing of his own beer, then puts it down, steps towards Kerf. He tries not crowd him, or box him in; he just wants to get closer. Kerf sets his own beer down, waits for him.

JT reaches out, touches Kerf’s hair, the thick, dark locks, soft under his fingers. Kerf is looking up at him. His eyes are wide and he looks a little confused, mouth soft and pink.

He lets JT kiss him, soft and unhurried. Opens his mouth, lets JT slide his tongue inside, let’s him sink his hand in his hair, but he keeps his hands to himself and when JT pulls back, he swallows. His eyes are still wide, dark and round.

“Come to my room,” JT says.

“What about—" Kerf licks his lip. JT watches the pink of his tongue. “What about Tyson?”

JT shrugs. “He’s cool.” 

Kerf looks skeptical and JT sighs.

“Look,” he says, “if you don’t want to or you feel weird about it because you’re fucking Tyson, that’s fine, it’s cool if you say no. But if you’re worried that he’s gonna freak out about it or something then— whatever. He’s not, I promise.” 

He drops his hand, takes half a step back so that they’re not almost-touching anymore and waits. Kerf’s thinking. He’s doing that thing with his eyebrows that makes JT want to reach out, smooth them over. It’s not a new impulse but it hits him now, tugs in a way it never has before. 

He really hopes Kerf says yes. 

“Okay.” Kerf takes a deep breath and steps forward. He goes up on his toes and fits his mouth against JT’s again. JT puts a hand on his side, pulls him in. It’s good, harder this time, slick. Kerf’s slides his tongue against JT’s. He reaches up, wrapped his arm around JT’s neck, pulls him in, sinks a hand in his hair.

They kiss like that, tight and hot against each other, hands and mouths touching. Kerf pulls away and JT blinks, eyes opening slowly. Kerf’s face is flushed pink, eyes wide, pupils blown. JT wants to kiss him again, right now. He leans in. Kerf kisses back, then pulls away again.

“Let’s—“ he swallows. “Let’s go to your room.”

JT grins, feels it wide across his face. He steps back, slides his hand into Kerf’s, then pulls him towards the stairs.

Tyson is nowhere to be seen. JT doesn’t know if he’s keeping to his room or if he fucked off to someone else’s place but right now he also doesn’t give a shit. Kerf is right behind him, hand tight in JT’s.

JT cleaned his room in anticipation for tonight, which Kerf thankfully doesn’t comment on. JT closes the door behind them, then steps up so he’s close to Kerf again. He reaches out and Kerf leans into him and they’re kissing again. Kerf’s fingers clutch at JT’s shirt. JT gets a hand in Kerf’s hair again, holds him still. Kerf’s hand slips inside his shirt, touches his bare skin. Their mouths are eager, hot and wet, tongues probing.

JT moves backward, stumbling towards the bed until he hits it and he can drop them onto the mattress. They’re on their sides and he slides his hand down, slides them under Kerf’s shirt. He feels warm, everything feels warm and he pauses to tug his own shirt over his head.

He feels Kerf watching him, biting his lip when he turns to look. He’s flushed and his mouth looks red, looks the way JT’s feel, sensitive and used and JT has to dive in again. Kerf’s hands are running all over his chest, firm and appreciative. He follows them with his mouth, wet and hot, the tickle of his stubble until JT is squirming, shoving him onto the bed, shoving his shirt out of the way to get his own mouth on Kerf.

He keeps his mouth on him until Kerf is gasping, hand in JT’s hair half trying to get him to move, half just holding on. JT smiles into his skin, leaves off sucking the mark he’d been making. It’s red against the flush skin and JT lets his tongue keep trailing as he moves lower.

Kerf is hard by now, straining against his jeans. The struggle together to get him out of them, keep interrupting to kiss and finally Kerf strips off his shirt too and is gloriously naked.

“You too,” he says, impatient.

JT looks while he steps out of his own pants. Kerf is pale and flushed, a smattering of chest hair, his dick red and hard and he keeps biting his lip as his eyes flick over JT. JT kisses him again, pushes against him until he’s flat on the bed, then makes his way down to Kerf’s dick, before settling in between his thighs.

They’re nice thighs. JT takes a moment to appreciate them, digs his fingers into the thick muscles and leaves little, biting kisses on the insides. Kerf’s hips hitch upward, straining and JT grins into his skin.

“Come on,” Kerf urges.

JT lets go of his leg to settle a forearm over his hips, wraps the other hand loosely around Kerf’s dick and then swallows him down, wet and steady. Kerf curses.

JT would grin but he has a mouth full of dick, so he concentrates on that instead. He bobs his head, sucks steadily, works on getting more into his mouth. Kerf’s hand makes its way to his head, fingers threading into his hair. It’s a good sort of pressure, a pull against his scalp and JT hums with it, goes lower.

Kerf isn’t as loud as Tyson but he’s panting and cursing. JT looks up at him and catches Kerf looking down at him. It’s the blow job perspective so it’s not the most flattering angle but Kerf’s hair is wild and his face is flushed and he’s staring at JT like his brain has short circuited so JT relaxes his throat and goes down as far as he can on Kerf’s dick, nose almost brushing against the taunt stomach muscles.

Kerf lets his head fall back as he whines and it’s only JT’s forearm that keeps him from bucking up into JT’s mouth. It’s intensely satisfying. JT pulls off a little but doesn’t let up, keeps working his mouth.

It doesn’t take long until Kerf is tugging JT’s hair again.

“JT,” he says. “I’m gonna—”

JT pulls off but he stays close, keeps working Kerf with his fist until his back arches and he’s coming. JT closes his eyes and feels the come hit his face, his mouth, his beard, his cheek. It’s sort of gross but when he opens his eyes again Kerf looks stunned.

“Fuck,” he says, hoarse. “Fuck that’s—come here.”

JT crawls up, his own dick hard and begging for attention.

“You’re something else,” Kerf says and kisses him, jizz still on his mouth. His hand snakes down, wraps itself around JT’s cock and JT moans into the kiss, feels Kerf’s smile against his mouth.

It’s a tight, hot hand job but it does the trick. Kerf moves on to sucking a mark into JT’s neck while he keeps jerking him, steady, until JT is swearing and coming over his fist.

They keep touching as they get cleaned up and climb back into bed together, neither one of them suggesting Kerf go back to his own room. Kerf doesn’t cling the way Tyson does but they are touching, feet tangles with each other and sides brushing and JT feels happy, a steady pulsing deep in his chest. He falls asleep between one thought and the next.

 

Kerf is already awake when JT wakes up the next morning but he’s still in JT’s bed, propped up against the headboard, scrolling on his phone.

JT blinks up at him.

“Time is it?” He mumbles.

“Early enough,” Kerf looks down at him. His hair is still a mess, mussed and dark. He’s worrying his lip a little. JT likes looking at him. 

“Come here,” he says and Kerf does, lets him kiss him, slow and sleepy. It doesn’t go anywhere, just soft, meandering kisses. Kerf relaxes, hand on JT’s side as his fingers idly trace over his skin. He giggles when JT’s stomach grumbles.

“I need breakfast,” JT says defensively.

In the kitchen they lean against opposite counters, waiting for the coffee to finish. Neither of them says anything but it’s not uncomfortable, just the slow, sleepy morning silence that resides in the house before everyone is fully awake. 

“Morning,” Tyson mumbles as he wanders into the kitchen a little later. He shuffles over to peck JT on the lips, then shuffles along to Kerf to do the same before opening a cabinet and staring, hard, at the full three cereal options available to him. Behind his back Kerf raises an eyebrow at JT. He looks fond. JT smiles at him and rolls his eyes as Tyson closes the cereal cupboard again and moves towards the toaster, the way he does every morning. Kerf smiles back and for a moment JT is peacefully, blindingly happy.

Tyson doesn’t really wake up until they’re all sitting at the breakfast table. He drinks his coffee, eyes flicking over the two of them until they settle on JT. He breaks out into a grin and reaches out to poke JT’s neck.

“Ow,” JT says

“Operation Wine and Dine worked!” Tyson crows, delighted.

“Operation Wine and Dine?” Kerf asks.

“Yeah,” Tyson nods. “I named it.”

Kerf covers his face with his hand. Tyson is grinning at JT, wide enough to show his teeth. JT shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“Eat up,” he says, “or we’re gonna be late to morning skate.”

 

There’s an adjustment period but it quickly settles into something comfortable between the three of them. It makes JT happy to no end that he can wander around his house and kiss either of his roommates whenever he feels like it. And if they happen to be kissing each other at the moment, well then JT can watch that. 

It extends to other parts of their lives as well, a casual touching and leaning on each other that happened before too but that seems more—not intense, but deliberate. They sit piled together during movie night, Tyson sprawled over the two of them, JT’s fingers tangled in Kerf’s hair.

“So now that you two are fucking, too,” Tyson says as he flicks through the options on Netflix, “do you wanna, like…all hook up together, maybe?”

JT’s fingers tighten in Kerf’s hair. Tyson sounds casual, but JT can feel the tension where he’s pressed against him, back to chest. It’s mostly anticipation, he thinks, and he looks over at Kerf, whose eyes have gone wide, mouth a little open.

“Uh,” he says, “Do you want to?”

“Well yeah,” Tyson swallows. “I mean, it’d be hot I think?”

“Shit.” JT says. He’s right. It’d probably be hot.

“Oh,” Kerf swallows. “Like—now?”

Tyson has stopped flicking through the Netflix options so the trailer for…something has started playing on the TV. JT isn’t really paying attention to it. Tyson turns so that he can look at both of them. There’s something serious about his face, something almost a little unsure. JT let’s go of Kerf, leans in to touch him. He kisses him, slides his tongue into Tyson’s mouth and when he pulls away Kerf is watching them.

“I’m in,” JT says.

“I—yeah,” Kerf sounds low, almost rough already. “Yeah.”

Tyson’s grin is broad, brilliant. He kisses Kerf, too, then rolls off them and onto his feet.

“Eager, huh,” JT comments but he’s getting up, too. Kerf is right behind them, the TV forgotten as they make their way up the stairs. Tyson leads them to his room, partly because he has the biggest bed, partly because he’s been thinking about this the longest, apparently. There’s a pause when they arrive, like they’re unsure what to do, then Tyson tosses himself onto the bed, grins up at them.

JT rolls his eyes, then climbs up too. He leans over and kisses Tyson again, deep and filthy, holding him still by his hair and when he surfaces again, Kerf is there too so JT kisses him as well.

They arrange themselves, shedding clothing already because they all know where this is going and by the time they’re all naked Tyson has positioned himself on a pillow and apparently decided how this is going to go.

“I want Kerf to fuck me,” he says.

JT snorts, “and we’re just gonna do what you want?”

“I don’t know,” Tyson looks up at him, tilting his head. “You don’t think you’d like that?”

Kerf laughs, moves up to kiss Tyson and JT rolls his eyes. He settles in next to them, watches the kiss, the languid drag of lips, the slide of tongues. He gets a hand on Tyson’s torso, drags it up his stomach and chest, to his nipple. A thumb dragged over it, then his mouth, wet and with teeth until Tyson is squirming, gasping into Kerf’s mouth.

They fumble around for the lube for a moment and JT hesitates, the grabs two condoms from the bedside drawer, dropping them at the head of the bed beside Tyson, who doesn’t notice because Kerf is in the process of sliding a finger inside him, slick and shiny with lube.

JT watches for a moment, the gentle movement of Kerf’s big hands, the hitching of Tyson’s hips as he adjusts, looks for more. He reaches out for the lube.

“You going to help me with this?” Kerf asks as he slides a second finger into Tyson.

“Nope,” JT says as he slicks his own fingers and reaches down. “Gonna enjoy the show.”

Tyson laughs, then gasps as Kerf twists his fingers inside him. Kerf’s eyes are still focused on JT, watching as JT starts fingering himself much more efficiently than Kerf is doing to Tyson. It’s a weird angle, doing this to himself but it’s still good, better because he gets to see Kerf do the same thing to Tyson, gets to see Tyson react to it. Kerf pauses once with three fingers tight inside Tyson’s ass to lean over and kiss JT, slide his tongue inside mouth, careful, exploratory until Tyson kicks him. 

“Ugh, you’re ready,” he says.

“I think you should ride Kerf,” JT says. “Have him sit against the headboard and get in his lap.”

“Oh yeah?” Tyson raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

They hold their gaze for a moment, then Tyson shrugs and gets up.

“Okay sure. Get in position Kerf.”

Kerf rolls his eyes but he takes the spot previously occupied by Tyson, scoots up against the headboard. He’s hard and he scrambles around for one of the condoms JT deposited earlier, gets it on and slicks himself up. Tyson crawls over to him, thighs splayed around his hips and from behind JT can see his ass, shining with lube. JT flexes, decides he’s probably fine with the prep and gets up on his knees.

He comes up behind Tyson as he hovers over Kerf, gets a slick hand on Kerf’s dick and kisses Tyson’s shoulder as he helps him line up and sink down into Kerf’s lap. Kerf’s hands are clutching Tyson’s thighs, fingers digging into the meat of the muscle as he looks up at them. There’s one sweaty lock of hair falling onto his forehead.

They kiss for a bit when Tyson sits down in Kerf’s lap. JT watches, mouth resting against Tyson’s shoulder, hands rubbing over his sides, cupping his ass, one finger trailing faintly along where Kerf’s dick is stretching Tyson open. When they stop kissing Tyson gets his hands on Kerf’s shoulders for leverage, tips his head back and groans loudly as he starts to move. Kerf watches him with a stunned expression on his face, cheeks flushed and his eyes keep flicking over to JT. It’s really fucking cute. JT reaches over Tyson’s shoulder to flick at Kerf’s hair, trace over his face for a moment. When he takes it back he slides it around to fist Tyson’s dick, slick and tight. That gets Tyson to jerk and moan, which in turn gets Kerf to moan.

“Yeah?” JT grins into Tyson’s shoulder. “Good?”

“JT,” Tyson is panting. “Fuck.”

He lifts himself up, the slick counterpoint between JT’s tight fist and Kerf’s dick in his ass getting to him, making him shiver and jerk and shudder.

“You close?” JT murmurs into his skin.

“Fuck,” Tyson says. “Fuck I don’t want—”

“You should come,” JT says, tightens his fist a little more, gives it a little more speed, “since I want my turn on his dick.”

Kerf swears as JT meets his eye over Tyson’s shoulders and jerks upward into Tyson. Tyson whimpers. JT keeps eye contact with Kerf as puts his mouth back on Tyson’s shoulder, right where it meets the neck. He digs his teeth in, bites, hard. Tyson jerks and probably tightens up because Kerf swears and then Tyson’s shuddering and coming, with a high-pitched whine. 

JT gives him a moment, lips gently brushing against the bite, but his own dick is hard and he really would like to get fucked now. Tyson is slumping against him, so he urges him up and off Kerf’s dick, gently pushes him until he rolls to the side and lays there, looking at them a little dazed.

JT grins as he strips the condom off Kerf and picks up the new one. He puts it on Kerf, adds more lube, then crawls into the position Tyson just opened up, positions himself over Kerf’s dick. He puts a hand on his shoulder, rubs a finger over the sweaty skin.

“You ready?”

“Fucking—come on,” Kerf says and JT laughs. He sinks down on Kerf’s dick, thick and good in his ass. He’s panting when he’s settled and he leans forward to kiss Kerf, sloppy and urgent. Kerf kisses back. His hands come up, drag over JT’s sides, down his thighs and up again until they get to his ass, urging him up.

JT grins as he breaks the kiss. “In a hurry?”

“You’re the second person on my dick,” he almost growls. “I’d like to come soon, please.”

“Hmm.” JT flexes a little around him, gets a moan. He kisses him once more. “Alright.”

It’s fast and sloppy, JT riding Kerf hard. Next to them Tyson makes a noise and when JT looks at him he looks wide-eyed, like he can’t quite take it all in, though he’s still slack on the bed. JT smiles at Tyson, then gasps when Kerf fucks up into him. 

“Shit,” Kerf says. “Shit.”

He gets a hand on JT’s dick, still a little slick from earlier and it’s nowhere near coordinated enough to get JT off but it still feels good, the stretch in his ass, the slide of Kerf’s dick inside him and the loose circle of his fist on his cock. He grinds himself down and Kerf jerks up and then, moment later, Kerf is swearing and coming, surging up to kiss JT, hard enough that their teeth band together. 

“Fuck,” Tyson says beside them, one hand reaching out to touch JT’s thigh.

JT keeps kissing Kerf, moves his hand out of the way and gets his own hand around himself, tight and fast exactly the way he likes it and he’s far enough along that it doesn’t take long at all until he’s coming too, spilling all over himself.

He’s panting when he lets himself fall onto the sheets on Kerf’s other side. Kerf looks sort of dazed as he slides down from the headboard until he’s lying between them, dick soft now. He strips off the condom, ties it off and then considers it a moment before tossing it somewhere.

“Hey,” Tyson mumbles.

“I’ll clean it up tomorrow,” Kerf says. Tyson snorts but he also crawls closer until he’s arranged himself in his preferred position: half draped on Kerf’s shoulder. He looks over at JT, still flushed and a little sweaty, curls a mess. JT smiles at him, comes up on Kerf’s other side.

“I’m warm,” Kerf mumbles a complaint.

“Deal with it,” JT brushes his lips against Kerf’s shoulder. He sighs and relaxes into it, lets himself be cuddled. JT puts his arm on him, hand finding Tyson’s and it’s so enjoyable, so comfortable that it doesn’t take long at all until he’s drifting off to sleep, the even breathing of the other two pulling him along and a deep, warm happiness settling into his chest. It feels good and right to be here, good and right and like this will last.

**Author's Note:**

> *sunglasses emoji*


End file.
